His first flashing glance over the courtyard had told him that only twenty of his peers had shown up to express their scorna"a great relief. With enough men, the gauntlet could kill as surely as the executioner. It was an even greater relief that his father wasn't among them. He couldn't have borne that.

The guards tied his ankles with an eight-inch hobble. If he tried to run, or even take a long step, it would trip him. So he'd take short steps, Tobin told himself, trying to quiet the frantic pounding of his heart. He would be free when it was over. Only twenty men. How bad could it be?

A knife cut through his collar, then rough hands gripped it and tore his shirt open. The cool, rain-scented air swept over his exposed skin, making him shiver. Once it was over, he'd be free, he reminded himself desperately.

They were shouting now, taunts, challenges, and strange, animal sounds. Tobin could barely hear them over the blood beating in his ears.

A guard pushed him, and the hobble caught his ankles, bringing him down. They laughed. Anger gave him strengtha"he'd behaved with honor, whatever they thought! He lurched to his feet, before the guards could lift him, and looked ahead.

The gauntlet stretched before him. Some of the men held the whips still at their sides, but some whirled and snapped them. They were the ones doing most of the shouting. Demons take them.

Tobin lifted his head and stepped between the first two men. He was braced for it, but the crack of the first cut made him jump. He just had time to think that it wasn't so bad, when the pain bit and he clenched his teeth against it. He took a short, hobbling step, and the second blow fell.

It was held to be a sign of manliness to pa.s.s the gauntlet without screaming or fainting.

Tobin did not succeed.

He lay on his stomach, staring at the wet gra.s.s. There was enough of the gray, predawn light to see droplets of water shivering down the long stems. His clothing was as wet as the gra.s.s. The cool wind numbed the throbbing agony in his back, except when he tried to move, so he'd stopped moving.

He had a vague memory of his hands being lashed to someone's stirrup, of being dragged, staggering, down the dark, cobbled streets, through all seven tiers of the city. They'd thrown him out of the main gate at the bottom of the city's hill, and he'd managed to crawl off the road before pa.s.sing out. When he wakened, he crawled for what felt like a long time but probably wasn't. When he'd wakened again, he'd crawled some more.

A whistle sounded; distant, piercing, familiar. It reminded him of Jeriah, and he blinked back tears. He hadn't realized it, but he'd been hoping that Jeriah would be waiting by the gate at the bottom of the hill.

No one had been there. Not Jeri, not either of his parents, or their servants, or any of the men he'd thought his friends. The whistle again. Was it nearer? It repeated itself, insistently.

He'd really thought that someone would be waiting for him, maybe even Master Lazur. He was beginning to think there was a flaw in Master Lazur's plan, for he felt like dying in this cold, gra.s.sy place. He hoped the priest wouldn't be too badly inconvenienced if he did.

Perhaps Master Lazur had a.s.sumed his friends would come and pick him up. But it seemed the friends he'd made so easily were easily lost, and the father who'd disowned him would hardly come and save him, or permit his wife to do so. And Jeriah, who hadn't come once to visit him, would hardly come anda"

The whistle! It was Jeriah's whistle! The all-clear signal for hundreds of games of knights and bandits, many years ago.

It sounded again, unmistakable now that he'd recognized it. Trust his brother to expect him to remember a signal they hadn't used for years.

He was crying. He took a deep breath, which hurt his back, and pursed his lips. It took several tries to get an answering whistle out of his dry mouth, and it was soft and wavery. But Jeriah must have been listening hard, for the calling whistle sounded again, nearer, demanding, and in just a few moments Tobin heard his brother thrashing through the gra.s.s.

"Tobin! Are you . . . ? Bright Ones' mercy." Jeriah's voice had fallen to a shocked whisper. Tobin turned his head painfully. He tried to tell Jeriah he was all right, but his voice wasn't working. A flask appeared at his lips, and he lifted himself slightly to gulp down the cool water. When his head fell again, Jeriah's cloak was beneath it.

"Demon's teeth! Tobin, how could you let Mother talk you into this?"

"It doesn't matter. I'm glad you came." He groped for his brother's hand and it closed around his instantly, warm and strong.

"Doesn't matter? Are you trying to prove you're a candidate for sainthood? No, don't answer, I always knew you were an idiot and now I'm sure of it! Don't talka"I'll get my horse and get you out of here before you freeze. You're soaked, do you know that? And your hands are like ice. No, I said don't answer. I don't have time to argue with lunatics." A soft hand stoked Tobin's hair. "We'll talk later." Jeriah rose and ran, swishing away in the long gra.s.s.

"How could you let Mother talk you into this?" Jeriah asked again. He sounded furious, but his hands were utterly gentle as he carefully cleaned the cuts on Tobin's back with a soft rag soaked in witch heal.

Tobin lay warm and drowsy on the pallet in the shepherd's hut where Jeriah had taken him. He felt almost too comfortable to answer. After the first sting, witch heal had a numbing effect, and the throbbing pain in his back had subsided. The fire, where broth was heating, combined with the sunlight pouring through the holes in the east wall to heat the abandoned shack beautifully.

"Well?" Jeriah demanded.

"She talked. She cried. You know Mother. Besides, she was right; they'd have been much harder on you."

"Dung!"

"Don't swear," said Tobin automatically.

"All right, but of all thea"" Agitation made Jeriah clumsy, and Tobin winced. "Sorry. No, I'm not sorrya" you almost deserve this. I've never heard anything so stupid in my life. Give me one good reason why you should take the blame for my actions."

"Because they might have killed you."

"And you think Father couldn't have bribed them for me, just as well as you?"

"Yes, but . . ." He stopped himself, but Jeriah wasn't slow.

"You're not sure he would have? Well, maybe he wouldn't, but he had a right to know the truth, and I always knew I was taking that chance."

When had his brother's voice become so steady? "So how did Mother talk you into agreeing?" Tobin asked. "I . . . wondered about that. Especially when you didn't visit me."

"I'll bet you did," said Jeriah grimly. "Mother didn't talk me into anything. I know her too well."

"Then what happened?" Tobin turned in time to see a blush wash over his brother's face.

"She drugged me."

"What?"

"She drugged me. She'd just come up with her 'wonderful' plan and I'd refused. I might run off, but there was no way I'd let you take my punishment. She got hysterical, and when she finally started to calm down, she got herself a cup of tea. She said she needed it, soothing, you know? She got me some at the same time, and I didn't want to upset her, so I drank it anda""

Tobin's shout of laughter woke the pain in his back and he gasped, twisting. Jeriah pushed him back gently.

"Don't do that! Anyway, I started to yawn, and the next thing I remember is waking up locked in the attic storeroom with an awful headache. The second in three days, I might add."

Tobin chuckled in spite of the pain. "You thought you knew her so well."

"Yes, but I didn't think she had drugs in her tea cabinet! I should have. She's always been fiendishly effective, our feather-headed mother."

"So what did you do?"

"What could I do? I yelled at the girls every time they poked food under the door, but Mother had them completely mesmerized. Finally I twisted a hinge off a chest and filed through the door so I could lift the latch, but it took days. Then I stole a horse and came straight here. I got in just after sunset, and by the time I found out what was happening they already had you in the courtyard. I knew I couldn't stop it in time, so I got this place ready and went to get you. I could kill Mother for this."

"You don't have to go that far. But when I get home, I'lla" When you get home, you'll have to take away her drugs. Where do you think she got them? And why?"

"No idea. But you're the one who's going home, big brother. As soon as I've told Father the truth. You're supposed to be the good son, remember?"

"No." Tobin rolled to his side and seized his brother's wrist. "You're not the bad son, you're justa""

"A traitor?" Jeriah met his eyes steadily.

"Jeri, why did you do it?" How long had he wanted to ask that question?

"Because I believe it was the right thing to do. Tobin, look how much is wrong with the way the Hierarch governs this land. We thought if we could put our own man in his placea""

"The Hierarch is chosen by the Bright G.o.ds themselves!"

"I'd be more impressed by that if the Bright Ones didn't express their will through the council of priests. We thought we coulda""

"Don't tell me. I don't even want to know," said Tobin wearily. His father wasn't the only one to see the world in terms of right and wrong, with no middle ground. "Were you going to kill the Hierarch? What made you think you could get away with something like that?"

"We weren't going to kill him. He's an old man, in his seventies now. We just wanted to be sure the man we'd chosen would replace him. My part would have been to keep an eye on the opposition. I was going into his servicea"who'd suspect me? I was going to report. . . well, it doesn't matter now."

"Jeriah!" Tobin gripped his brother's wrist. "Promise me that you'll stop this. You can't go ona""

"Don't get upset." His brother pushed him down again, the gentleness of his hands a startling contrast to his grim face. "We can't go on with it. The man we intended to be Hierarch was hacked to pieces eight days ago."

Tobin had never seen that bleak determination on his brother's face. It frightened him far more than the old, impetuous wildness. "Promise that you'll stop trying. Master Lazur all but told me that he suspects you. Think things through, for once in your life! Think what you'll cost Father if you try anything else. It would kill both of them to lose you."

Jeriah pulled his hands away slowly. "I can't promise. There area"there are things more important than family. But I promise to think it through, and to be sure as I can that what I do is safe and will succeed. All right?"

"No! Jeri, I'm going to go mad out there, not knowing what you might be doing while I'm gone. Promise you won't do anything. Swear it." He knew he was using his brother's guilt shamelessly, but he didn't care. Jeriah had always been idealistic, but the will and ability to act on those ideals was new and terrifying. To his astonishment, his impulsive brother thought for a moment before answering.

"All right. I won't start anything until you're clear of this mess. I swear it. I'll try to work within the system, until then. Is that enough?"

"No," said Tobin. "But it looks like that's all I'm going to get. When did you grow up anyway?" How had he failed to see such profound changes?

"A long time ago." Jeriah smiled. "You were too busy mothering me to notice. And since I didn't want you to notice too much, I didn't bring it to your attention. Speaking of growing up, I'm going to tell Father the truth."

"Don't. If you tell him, it's all been for nothing. I can make it right myself." Even a few hours ago, he might have hesitated to tell Jeriah his intentions, but this new Jeriah had proven he could keep a secreta"and a trust. Tobin told him everythinga"the barbarians, the sorceress, Master Lazur's plan. Jeriah looked very thoughtful when he finished.

"I don't like it," he said. "It sounds like he expects you to get killed right after you plant that stonea"if not before! Tobin, Ia"I couldn't get along without you to keep me in line. You know that, don't you?"

Tobin gripped his brother's hand. "I would have believed that, this morning. I won't get killed, Jeri. I could have died anytime in the past three years, but I didn't. I'm not a hero. I'll be careful, and I'll come back. I promise."

CHAPTER 7.

The Hedgewitch THE WOMAN RAN FROM the burning cabin carrying an armload of blankets and an iron pot. Flames licked up her skirt and caught in her long blond hair. She dropped the blankets and ran for the creek, slowed by her heavy pregnancy. Her man caught her and pushed her down, rolling her over, beating at the flames with his bare hands until they were extinguished.

Makenna turned her attention to the buildinga"burning nicely, she judged. No chance they could put it out, just the two of them. No chance to save more of their household goods, either. She glanced up as Cogswhallop crept soundlessly into the bushes beside her.

"Got the animals away when they were busy about the fire," he reported. "The barn's just starting to burn, but it'll go fast."

Makenna nodded with satisfaction. "They won't be back."

Cogswhallop c.o.c.ked his head thoughtfully. "They're a stubborn pair."

"And vicious." The tactile memory of extracting Maddit's body from the human's trap washed over Makenna, sickening her even now. Cold, sticky blood, pouring over her hands, soaking her britches as the iron spikes pulled free of his flesh. She had to take several deep breaths before she could speak.

"The walk back will take it out of 'em," she said coldly. "Two days, no food, no sheltera"that's hard on a pregnant woman. My mother said they need lots of rest, when they're big like that. They won't be back. You're certain you found all their traps? The one that got Maddit was well hidden."

"I'll take my lot, and we'll do a thorough search once the humans have gone."

"Do that. And if you have any problem springing them, let me know. If I never have to tell another goblin their life mate died on one of my missions, it'll still be too many."

The shrill, grief-stricken keening of Maddit's wife echoed in her memory, and the thought of the loneliness that lay before the little woman cut even more deeply. For the goblins, life mate wasn't an empty t.i.tle. But at least she had the children. Makenna discovered that her eyes were wet. She wiped them impatiently.

"You can't save us all, gen'ral," said Cogswhallop. "Not with the best plans. Sooner or later, something will go wrong."

"I've learned that," said Makenna shortly.

"Aye, you just don't believe it. You've hardly lost a handful, in all the battles we've fought. And won! Think how many you've saveda"not how many you've lost."

"There is that," Makenna admitted. How many times over the years had Cogswhallop supported her? He could be hard, as hard as any human soldier in the midst of war. Soldiers had to be hard. But his loyalty was truer than any she'd known, except her mother's, and Makenna relied on him more than she'd ever relied on any human.

These humans had gone to the stream and were wrapping wet rags over their burns. Makenna's conscience twinged, but she ignored it with the ease of practice.

She remembered the tiny force she'd started witha" only six goblins, for Miggy was too young to help then. Now there were almost sixteen hundred goblins, living in half a dozen villages up and down the wall, who were willing to aid her. She'd actually rescued very few of thema"the rest were refugees from human persecution. She could offer them nothing but a safe place to rebuild their lives, but she gave them that, defending the Goblin Wood against all humans who sought to invade it.

She paid her troops in b.u.t.tons, stringa"in pinecones if there was nothing else to hand. They repaid her with miracles of courage and cleverness . . . and she loved them. They were her people.

A rustling in the undergrowth made her head snap around. Erebus joined them, wheezing from the long crawl, spectacles sliding low on his sweaty face. Makenna smiled and began to greet the Bookerie, but Cogswhallop got in first.

"Clumsy ink-finger! Haven't you been told not to blunder in when we're in a fight?"

"The sentry said the fight was over," said Erebus with his usual placid indifference to Cogswhallop's insults. "He a.s.sured me it was safe as long as I didn't let them see me. I've got some news, from my cousins in Brackenlee, that the mistress ought to hear." Beaming, he held out his hand, and Makenna pulled off one of her trading b.u.t.tons and gave it to him.

"There's a big group of settlers moving up from the south, over two hundred, they say. And they claim they're going to settle beyond the wall."

Cogswhallop whistled softly. "That's the biggest lot we've had to deal with yet. That's four times more than that troop they sent."

"Aye," said Erebus. "But remember what happened to them ?"

Makenna snickered. She'd sent Spoilers in to rot their tack and weapon belts. Two days later, when she knew the leather would be ready to crumble, she'd sent a mob of Flichters in to spook their horses. The memory of the resultant chaos brought a grin to her face. Even Cogswhallop smiled dourly.

"Hove your friends keep an eye on them, Erebus,"

Makenna told him. "I'd like to know what their plans are, and when they'll be pa.s.sing the wall. It's only fair that they get the warning. Who knows? Maybe they'll be wiser than these two." She nodded in the direction of the young couple. They were gaping at their burning home, instead of starting the long walk while they still had light. Foolish, as well as vicious. Makenna dismissed them and crawled back through the brush. Five years of guerrilla warfare had made her almost as silent as Cogswhallop. Erebus, on the other hand, made enough noise for both of them.

"There's another thing you should know, mistress," he said as they crawled into a small gully where they could walk upright without being seen. "There's a man, all alone like a bounty hunter, asking questions about you and the wood. They say he's got armor, as well as a sword."

Makenna frowned. Most bounty hunters were no problema"but a man covered with steel armor would be harder for the goblins to deal with. "I'll look him over when he pa.s.ses the wall," she decided. "When's he coming? Do you know?"

"Set out from Brackenlee this morning, should reach the wall tomorrow midday. He'll probably meet those two on the road, now that I think about it."

Makenna shrugged. "Might as well learn what he's in for. In facta"" A sparkle of mischief danced through her. "I'm tired of these foolish, greedy hunters. Let's give him a taste of what's to come, along with his warning, shall we?"